当我还是个婴儿的时候，我母亲去看一个无神论者被烧死。她带我去了那里。身穿黑袍的牧师们在教堂周围集合;人群静静地注视着;当那个罪犯大摇大摆地走过时，他那一成不变的眼睛里流露出一种温和的轻蔑，夹杂着平静的微笑，平静地闪耀着;饥渴的火焰在他壮硕的四肢上蔓延;他那双坚毅的眼睛很快就被烤瞎了;他临死的痛苦撕裂了我的心!麻木不仁的暴民发出胜利的欢呼，我也哭了。“别哭，孩子!”' cried my mother, 'for that man Has said, There is no God.'' FAIRY 'There is no God! Nature confirms the faith his death-groan sealed. Let heaven and earth, let man's revolving race, His ceaseless generations, tell their tale; Let every part depending on the chain That links it to the whole, point to the hand That grasps its term! Let every seed that falls In silent eloquence unfold its store Of argument; infinity within, Infinity without, belie creation; The exterminable spirit it contains Is Nature's only God; but human pride Is skilful to invent most serious names To hide its ignorance. 'The name of God Has fenced about all crime with holiness, Himself the creature of his worshippers, Whose names and attributes and passions change, Seeva, Buddh, Foh, Jehovah, God, or Lord, Even with the human dupes who build his shrines, Still serving o'er the war-polluted world For desolation's watchword; whether hosts Stain his death-blushing chariot-wheels, as on Triumphantly they roll, whilst Brahmins raise A sacred hymn to mingle with the groans; Or countless partners of his power divide His tyranny to weakness; or the smoke Of burning towns, the cries of female helplessness, Unarmed old age, and youth, and infancy, Horribly massacred, ascend to heaven In honor of his name; or, last and worst, Earth groans beneath religion's iron age, And priests dare babble of a God of peace, Even whilst their hands are red with guiltless blood, Murdering the while, uprooting every germ Of truth, exterminating, spoiling all, Making the earth a slaughter-house! 'O Spirit! through the sense By which thy inner nature was apprised Of outward shows, vague dreams have rolled, And varied reminiscences have waked Tablets that never fade; All things have been imprinted there, The stars, the sea, the earth, the sky, Even the unshapeliest lineaments Of wild and fleeting visions Have left a record there To testify of earth. 'These are my empire, for to me is given The wonders of the human world to keep, And fancy's thin creations to endow With manner, being and reality; Therefore a wondrous phantom from the dreams Of human error's dense and purblind faith I will evoke, to meet thy questioning. Ahasuerus, rise!' A strange and woe-worn wight Arose beside the battlement, And stood unmoving there. His inessential figure cast no shade Upon the golden floor; His port and mien bore mark of many years, And chronicles of untold ancientness Were legible within his beamless eye; Yet his cheek bore the mark of youth; Freshness and vigor knit his manly frame; The wisdom of old age was mingled there With youth's primeval dauntlessness; And inexpressible woe, Chastened by fearless resignation, gave An awful grace to his all-speaking brow. SPIRIT 'Is there a God?' AHASUERUS 'Is there a God!-ay, an almighty God, And vengeful as almighty! Once his voice Was heard on earth; earth shuddered at the sound; The fiery-visaged firmament expressed Abhorrence, and the grave of Nature yawned To swallow all the dauntless and the good That dared to hurl defiance at his throne, Girt as it was with power. None but slaves Survived,-cold-blooded slaves, who did the work Of tyrannous omnipotence; whose souls No honest indignation ever urged To elevated daring, to one deed Which gross and sensual self did not pollute. These slaves built temples for the omnipotent fiend, Gorgeous and vast; the costly altars smoked With human blood, and hideous pæans rung Through all the long-drawn aisles. A murderer heard His voice in Egypt, one whose gifts and arts Had raised him to his eminence in power, Accomplice of omnipotence in crime And confidant of the all-knowing one. These were Jehovah's words. ''From an eternity of idleness I, God, awoke; in seven days' toil made earth From nothing; rested, and created man; I placed him in a paradise, and there Planted the tree of evil, so that he Might eat and perish, and my soul procure Wherewith to sate its malice and to turn, Even like a heartless conqueror of the earth, All misery to my fame. The race of men, Chosen to my honor, with impunity May sate the lu